Unusual Path to Happiness
by Trixfan
Summary: Elizabeth and Jane, daughters of Mr. Bennet's first marriage are shipped off to Pemberley at an early age. All our old friends make an appearance, plus a few new characters. Follow Lizzy, Jane and Darcy as they negotiate their childhood to find true happiness in life. WIP and yes, HEA eventually. Previously posted at Something Old, Something New, taken down, dusted off, refreshed..
1. Authors Notes

Just a quick word. Some of you will have read this story before, and, I hope, you enjoy it again should you choose to re-read. It's been retitled, revamped and edited by my wonderful beta Jim. There were a few comments about the first two chapters when initially published, echoed by my editor.

1) Many thought my entail ridiculous, from a family harmony point of view and the laws in England at the time. Both are true but there is a reason behind almost everything I write. I will warn you now, you'll have to wait a number of chapters before this becomes evident.

2) The family ties are convoluted and I've attempted to be too clever in the relationships between characters. Re-reading it can understand the confusion and have attempted to fix it as best as possible without disturbing later plot points.

Thus, if you wish too, you can skip the next two chapters (or skim read them) and still understand the story. The choice, as always is yours, however my wonderful beta thinks the story flows much better from chapter three on.


	2. Chapter One – Setting the Scene

The names Darcy and Bennet were both associated with estates, held for many generations in separate parts of England. Late in the sixteenth century, these families became united by marriage. Miss Isabella Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire wed Mr. Robert Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire. How such a match came about has been lost to history. However the tie occurred, the tenth daughter of Sir William Darcy, born to his third and final wife, couldn't hope for more than a country gentleman of average means as her partner in life. With little in the way of dowry, it was an eligible match. After their union, the pair seemed happy enough with their modest home, producing four daughters and two sons.

Through the century that followed, the lands of Mr Bennet were handed down in a most particular manner because Mr Robert Bennet had a most particular sense of humour. He distrusted both his male children. He thought their manners engaging enough but their ways somewhat dissolute. Fearing for the welfare of his estate and, more so, the tenants, he initiated a most particular entail. Indeed, he found it somewhat entertaining to leave the property to a nephew, the youngest son of his oldest sister; this entail to perpetuate, thereby disrupting family harmony as much as possible.

And so Longbourn passed through a series of gentlemen. Mr James Heart became the next owner. Mr Simon Galloway followed. Mr Joshua Rhys-Jones came next, then Mr Nicholas Williams. Finally, on the eve of the nineteenth century the estate returned to a man named Bennet through a series of marriages and interlinked family ties. Sophia Williams, sister to the current master, married one Laurence Bennet and produced a Master Octavius Bennet, who would one day inherit Longbourn.

Due to the unusual entail, the newly wed Mr and Mrs Bennet took residence in the Dower House, a quarter mile distant from Longbourn Manor, so as to remain close to that family. The couple produced one son and one daughter. Young Octavius was given a gentleman's education beside his male cousin, Phillip Williams, and chose to live under his uncle's roof to improve family relations. The boys grew up as all but brothers. It seemed fate did not look kindly upon the Williams family. In his first year at Oxford, Phillip Williams took ill, returning to convalesce at Longbourn. Shortly thereafter, the family went into the first of their many mourning periods as Phillip failed to recover and, indeed was followed a few months later by his Uncle Laurence. Mr Williams senior found he thanked his ancestor as he knew the estate would be well taken care of upon his demise.

Octavius took possession of Longbourn the same day he returned from his curtailed wedding tour. Meeting Lady Elizabeth Jane Montague in London after so recently giving up his mourning clothes for his own father, Mr Bennet became infatuated with the young woman on first sight. Their whirlwind courtship lasted exactly six weeks before a quiet marriage. The couple did not complete their honeymoon, as Mr William's took ill and they were called home urgently. Uncle Nicholas waited for his heir before taking his last breath.

"Promise me," Nicholas demanded, "you will do all in your power to break this farce of an entail so your sons might inherit Longbourn."

Agreeing, Octavius, only recently giving up mourning the loss of his father, took to wearing a black cravat, coat and beeches, believing he had many years to make good on his undertaking. Lady Elizabeth spent the entirety of her confinement in that colour, choosing to follow her husband's lead out of respect for a man she hardly knew. On the day they gave up grieving, a year to the day after Mr Williams passed, twin daughters, Jane and Elizabeth arrived. The mourning period ending in such celebration, only to sink into further despair, as Lady Elizabeth succumbed to child-bed fever; the remaining family once again took to wearing black.

"What am I to do?" Octavius Bennet beseeched his mother and aunt at the end of a very long day. They had not expected two children, but at least he had been blessed with living babes while their mother lay still and cold in the mistress's chambers. At the end of his reserves, Mr Bennet could not see how they would survive without his wife. The apothecary and midwife found a wet nurse for their immediate needs, and a nursery maid had already been employed. Yet the thought of those tiny children, his daughters, did not make up for the loss of his beloved wife. "I have only just finished mourning my Cousin, Uncle and Father. Now the Lord has taken my wife of one year. What have I done to deserve such a fate?"

Sophia Bennet and Harriet Williams looked to each other in desperation, for they held as much respect and affection for Lady Elizabeth Jane as the grieving man. They had both lost husbands in the previous years. While there could have been much resentment between the women, they had long ago buried that hatchet. The women neither entered their marriages unaware of the situation, nor regretted their choice. The loss of young Phillip had drawn their acquaintance closer until they had become particular friends and confidantes.

Now, both ladies resided within Longbourn House. They had shared the duties of Mistress while Lady Elizabeth Jane settled into her responsibilities, and then afterwards as her confinement approached. Presently, the women looked to each other with knowing expressions. The twins required a mother more than nursery maids. Neither would suggest sending the babies to Mrs Susan Collins. Sophia's daughter boasted, when delivered of a son two years previously that she intended to turn her mother and aunt out of Longbourn the moment her son took possession. The sentiment, they knew, came from her husband, Mr Collins, a most odious man. Both women felt the match beneath Susan and had tried to talk her from making a most imprudent choice. The twin girls would not be treated at all well if brought up with the next master of Longbourn, for William Collins could not but take a likeness to his cruel and greedy father.

"You must marry again," Sophia gently offered her heart-broken son.

On hearing this pronouncement, Octavius spiralled into his own world once again. "No," he whispered hoarsely. Images of his short, but loving marriage assaulted him. He could not believe his dearest Elizabeth Jane to be gone.

"We do not suggest an immediate match," Harriet consoled, beseeching her sister-in-law to continue. Such a discussion should come from a mother. Indicating she would leave them alone, Sophia implored her to stay.

"When the mourning period is almost at an end," Sophia took up the softly spoken plea, "we shall find a good woman who will love the babes as we do. Until then we will help in any way possible. We must make the best of a bad situation, my son. At least you have your daughters to remember your wife by."

"I could never love anyone like my Dearest Elizabeth Jane," Mr Bennet cried in an anguished tone. Moving suddenly, he left the room, shoulders stooped. He needed time alone to come to terms with his loss. From the first, the match had been one of felicity and tenderness. Time had deepened the bonds between husband and wife. "No one understood me or my disposition like my Eliza."

"What are we to do," Sophia requested of her sister in law, afraid for the newborns. There had been numerous losses at Longbourn, and children often didn't continue past infanthood, succumbing to one disease or another. Should one of the twins pass, the pall would hang like a cloud, forever covering the estate. Added to this, Mr Bennet would never survive such a loss heaped atop the others.

"The best we can," Harriet stated with determination. A woman of great intestinal fortitude, she knew what needed to be done. "I have a friend, Lady Anne Darcy, who I knew before my marriage. I holidayed with my family in Derbyshire, near the great estate of Lord Matlock called Meadowbrook Manor and we were introduced there. I believe our families once intersected many years ago. I have continued to correspond, especially when I noticed the Darcy name in the Longbourn family bible. It appears Lady Anne knew the history better than me, for it is well known at Pemberley, the estate of her esteemed husband. She has been most unfortunate in childbearing. Fitzwilliam, her only son, is now six years old."

"He is her only child?" Sophia asked, shocked.

"The only one to survive in five and ten years of marriage, and I know she wishes a larger family," Harriet added sadly. "I will tell her of this event. Mr Darcy has taken in the son of his late steward, a boy called George, to accompany his son. Perhaps they can be approached with the possibility of caring for Jane and Elizabeth, for Mr Darcy is related, distantly, to your grand-daughters."

"You think Lady Anne would accept Jane and Elizabeth?" Sophia enquired, liking the idea. Her daughter-in-laws parents were rather elderly but very well connected and able to support the twins should the need arise. However, the family were very little known to Longbourn or its inhabitants. If there was a choice, this Darcy family might be better suited to raise two girls.

"We have a family connection to the Darcys, a very precarious one, but a connection none the less. Under such circumstances," shrugging her shoulder, Harriet sighed and fell into a chair, exhausted by this day, "Jane and Elizabeth are the grandchildren of an Earl, and a gentleman's daughters to boot. They should be raised as such. I can think of no one better suited to the task than the Darcys, should they be prepared to take them."

"Absolutely not," Octavius roared. Harriet and Sophia had finally confessed their worry and proposed solution when Mr Bennet continued in his grief a month later. Little though they knew, he crept into the nursery every night, spending several hours with his children. So far the girls provided the only balm for a broken heart. "I will care for my daughters. I forbid you to mention this again or write to anyone with concerns about Jane and Elizabeth. They are Bennets and will be raised as Bennets here at Longbourn."

"Remember this day, son," Sophia stated with pursed lips, angered by the complete refusal. "There may come a time when you will wish to have your daughters well cared for. I have met your Aunt's friend when we visited London last week to condole with your in-laws. She is a kind, well-bred woman of great means. Jane and Elizabeth could do much worse. More so, for Lady Anne is desperate for more children and Jane becomes her very well, while Elizabeth resembles the Darcy colouring."

"I will cut the mourning time to six months and then look for a new Mistress for Longbourn," Octavius declared, quickly considering his options. "I will not have my wife's namesakes removed from this house. I refuse to speak of this again."

One year later he would come to rue those words when, married to Miss Francis Gardiner for an entire month, it became obvious she made little effort to cope with the rambunctious toddling Elizabeth. Jane she might condescend to allow in her company because of her sweet disposition and nature. However the warmth and affection she'd openly displayed for the girls before her marriage evaporated the day she took over as Mistress of her husband's home. Harriet and Sophia could no longer offer the twins their protection as the new Mrs Bennet had them packed up and moved into the dower house forthwith. The nursemaids had been warned to keep the children out of sight and silent at all times, in case they vex Fanny's fragile nerves.

"One I could cope with, but two!" the lady rolled her eyes in exasperation when Lizzy had once again upset her by squealing with enough force to be heard from the nursery. "Really Mr Bennet, don't you have a sister who could take Elizabeth. Jane is such a dear little thing, I think I could survive with her when _our_ children arrive," Fanny simpered in the attempt to get her way. "Of course, she must take second place to any child of mine."

"They come as a package," Octavius stated in a deadly tone. "You accepted them the day you agreed to marry me."

"Very well, then they can go to your sister Collins as a package for she is family, and who better to take care of your children than the woman whose son will take away your estate," the new Mrs Bennet smiled happily as she easily disposed of that problem. "Now tell me of this Lady Anne your mother speaks of? She sounds like a fine acquaintance. Perhaps we should invite her to visit next time she is in the neighbourhood?"

Storming out of the main house, Mr Bennet used the quarter mile to the Dower House to cool his temper. Alarming reports of Fanny's behaviour, towards Elizabeth particularly, had reached his ears just that morning. On approaching his wife, she had soon displayed her true colours, and Octavius realised he had been quite deceived by the lady. His mother and aunt listened with an attentive ear, but offered no advice. Both knew the stubborn man would need to come to the only conclusion on his own.

"Is this Lady Anne Darcy still willing to take the girls as her own?" Octavius eventually asked his mother a fortnight later. He had been pulling what little he had left of his hair out as the woman he had married in haste had not ceased in her determination to rid Longbourn of the issue from his previous spouse. "Mrs Bennet has not stopped in her abuse of Elizabeth. In fact she has increased her dislike of my daughter. The nursery maids see her come into the room and run with my Little Lizzy in the opposite direction. I cannot continue to subject Elizabeth to such treatment."

"I will write to my friend forthwith," Harriet offered, removing herself to the small desk by the window. "Perhaps you will be so kind as to take the letter to Meryton and post it."

All knew Mrs Williams inferred he act without the knowledge of the current Mistress of Longbourn. Octavius nodded his consent, understanding the implied warning. Fanny would be particularly vindictive if she knew Elizabeth were to receive such attention.

"We will see what news the reply brings," Sophia consoled her son, looking to her sister-in-law and co-conspirator.

"We are to visit London next week," Harriet consoled, watching the heart-broken young man prepare to leave the Dower House, "let us see what the intervening time brings."

"You know I get regular letters from Lady Anne," Harriet commented once her nephew vacated the property. "Lady Anne is returning from visiting her sister in Kent and will be in London. Perhaps we should take Elizabeth and Jane to town under the guise of visiting with their Montague relatives. I am sure the new Mistress of Longbourn will not be at all displeased, especially if we do not return with the girls."

Sophia frowned, but knew it to be the best solution. "I believe you may be correct, sister," she offered in a sad tone.


	3. Chapter Two – A New Home

"Lady Anne," Mrs. Williams exclaimed upon noticing her friend seated quite comfortably in the parlour at Midland House. Harriet curtseyed before sharing a surprised glance with her sister-in-law, Sophia Bennet. "I am happy to see you once again," she stated with a warm smile.

"And I you. I understand this meeting must come as somewhat of a shock after our recent correspondence," Anne returned with some humour. "Please allow me to introduce Lady Grace, my Mother-in-Law. Lady Grace is the eldest daughter of Lady Montague, the Countess of Wessex."

When all the women in the room had been thoroughly introduced, the polite greeting established, the roads discussed and tea served, the five ladies finally sat. Harriet Williams and Sophia Bennet came to understand the Montague and Darcy ladies relationship and, therefore, presence within this parlour would make their mission much easier. The coach from Longbourn scares arrived at Midland House, the London townhouse of the Earl of Wessex before they had been bundled upstairs to refresh. Taking little time to change out of travelling clothes and removing the children to the nursery, the sisters now understood the haste of their hostess.

"I believe," Anne Darcy watched the confusion from the Hertfordshire ladies, "you do not remember meeting Lady Montague while visiting Derbyshire so many years ago."

"I confess," Harriet stated, eagerly watching the byplay, "I do not."

"I should think not," Lady Montague stated with a slightly amused voice. "It must have been nearly twenty years past, for that is the last time I ventured so far north. I believe I called into Meadowbrook after visiting Pemberley and my eldest daughter. Why, Elizabeth was but a babe." With the mention of her deceased daughter, Georgiana Montague paused significantly. Catching her breath to give a moment to compose, she stated, "Lord Fitzwilliam insisted we stay a month and he would send an invitation to Pemberley for that family to join us." Turning her attention to the final lady in the room, Georgiana requested of her eldest daughter, "Grace, were you not one of the party?"

"My Husband and eldest son attended," Grace Darcy answered.

Anne allowed a slight tingling laughter to take the attention from her husband's mother. "I am glad you did, even though George and I disliked each other upon first sight. It took the next four summers to come to an understanding."

Harriet looked to Lady Grace Darcy nee Montague and attempted to hold her countenance. These suddenly exposed relationship explained the many veiled hints as to the welfare of Jane and Elizabeth in Lady Anne and Lady Montague's most recent letters. Mrs. Williams, never slow of wit, comprehended the true resolve of the well-connected women in the room. Their relationship to the twin girls in the nursery above stairs could no longer be denied. Miss Jane and Elizabeth Bennet were destine to travel in circles Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Bennet could only dream of.

Lady Anne, much to her chagrin and cognisant of the many and varied associations, had engineered this meeting in the hope of becoming acquainted with her husband's very young cousins. Indeed, Mr George Darcy, her husband, and Miss Jane and Elizabeth Bennet were all grandchildren of Lord and Lady Montague. The Countess of Wessex, fearing for the girls' welfare, had aided in this subterfuge and secretly brought about the gathering.

Many explicit letters had passed between Pemberley and Midland House over the last months. Most concerned the fate of Elizabeth Bennet in particular. The twins had visited their grandmother in London on several occasions, and this report soon became known at Pemberley. If the abuse of the Bennet child who resembled the Darcy clan continued, Lady Anne fully intended to take the girl and her sister to the Darcy country seat for their protection. She'd sincerely wished the last letter from Harriet, along with her sudden appearance in town, indicated a willingness to now place the girls in her care.

"I see you are at quite a loss," Anne offered with a polite smile, giving Harriet and Sophia time to digest all they has learnt. Delicately picking up the china cup resting on its saucer, she looked to Lady Montague with a knowing glance. They had discussed family politics, and what to do about the current situation, in the half hour prior to the Longbourn party's arrival. With an equal share each of their mother's forty thousand pound dowry, Lady Elizabeth's offspring needed to be protected at all cost.

"Indeed," The Countess offered softly, "the Bennet children, and hence you, are more closely connected than you could have imagined."

"So," Anne smiled brightly, "you see we are all family, in one way or another."

"We must not stand on ceremony," Lady Montague shared a knowing look with Anne.

"I must add, your communication last week intrigued me," Anne continued smoothly when Mrs Williams and Mrs Bennet allowed the silence to extend past what was considered socially appropriate. "I brought my mother-in-law to London while I went to visit with my sister, Lady Catherine De Bough, in Kent. I had hoped to meet my very young cousins, and have the pleasure of introducing them to my husband's mother, if at all possible."

"I am sure such can be arranged," Harriet answered for the Longbourn ladies. As all the communications had been directed through Mrs Williams, it seemed apt she carried the conversation with the most recent revelations.

"We are to stay at Darcy House for the next week," Anne informed, "which is but three streets from Midland House."

Sophia, understanding the links to two such great families and what it could mean for the twins, looked to her sister-in-law in awe. The courtship of her son, Octavius and Lady Elizabeth Jane had been a very short affair after a chance introduction while he visited London. Socially, their union should not have been possible. However the aging Earl, with several grandchildren older than his youngest daughter, gave way with surprising ease. Six weeks after meeting, they married very quietly with only immediate family in attendance. Everyone expected a child early in their marriage due to the haste.

Once again, the Bennet family had just come from wearing black and mourning the recent loss of Mr Laurence Bennet. With the current owner of Longbourn having suffered ill health for several months in silence, Mr Octavius Bennet, next in line to inherit, used the opportunity to secure his future, thus the rush to the altar. All who saw the young couple, could not help but see it for a love match. Why else would an Earl's daughter marry a country gentleman? Unless…

So Sophia and Harriet first became acquainted with their new Montague relatives at Octavius's wedding. As the Montagues had not attended Mr Nicholas William's funeral, they had met for only the second time at the funeral for Lady Elizabeth Jane one year after her wedding. The current Earl and his wife didn't travel due to the elderly Lord's ill health. Subsequently, Sophia and Harriet had become regular guests to Midland House since taking over the care of young Jane and Elizabeth.

Sophia indicated Harriet, the more socially adept of the two, should openly canvas the impending guardianship of the children currently under their care. She realised they would have little say in the future of the Bennet sisters given the consequence of their newly uncovered relatives. As if their mother's fortune wasn't enough reason, the relationships to the houses of Darcy and Montague would ensure any control from Longbourn would soon cease. Sensing an accord would soon be reached, Lady Montague, held back her smile. It seemed Anne Darcy's intuition might prove correct once again.

"Jane and Elizabeth are currently in the nursery," Lady Montague offered with a pleasant smile. "I have asked the entire Longbourn party to stay with me for the duration of their visit to London. I am afraid my bones are far too weary to make the journey to Hertfordshire as often as I would like, and I must impose on Sophia and Harriet's good graces to make the trip to town often."

Sophia, never one to hold her tongue, became frustrated at the polite circling of the topic they all wished to discuss. Taking matters into her hands, she placed her cup on the side table. Clearing her throat, Mrs Bennet drew attention to herself.

"Countess, Lady Anne ," Sophia flicked her eyes to the footmen and parlour maid signifying they be dismissed; "may I suggest we retire to the nursery or have the girls brought down. They, at least, slept most of the journey from Hertfordshire. I am sure the girls are in great need of entertainment. I believe there is much we need to discuss, and I should like you to know Jane and Elizabeth better before further decisions are made."

"A most excellent notion," Lady Montague stated. Turning her attentions to the footmen on either side of the door, she commanded, "Jonas, Foster, please aid Helen to bring the children down. When you return with our precious bundles, ensure they are unable to leave the room by guarding the door from the outside."

"Elizabeth," Sophia commented proudly into the sudden silence that became slightly awkward, "is walking. She fears naught. Jane is such a sweet girl, but she follows where her sister leads. I am thankful it is still on hands and knees."

"Although she is able to move as fast as her sister," Harriet rolled her eyes, "if she thinks it worth her while."

"How old are they now?" questioned Lady Grace. She'd not taken part in the conversation, preferring to sit back and observe. However, she supported her daughter-in-law's views and kept abreast of any news concerning her nieces. Clearly, propriety indicated the grand-daughters of an Earl be raised in the best situation possible which, in her mind, equated to Pemberley.

"Fourteen months," smiled a besotted Sophia. Her demeanour became suddenly forlorn as she considered a future without the girls. "It is going to be hard, being separated from them," she threw into the room, stunning the other women at her audacity and willingness to bring up the children's future. Without the servants to hear her words, she felt on safer ground. "I hope our discussion on their removal to Pemberley is still viable, Lady Anne, for the current situation at Longbourn is untenable for Elizabeth. She must be removed, immediately and permanently."

"I am glad you spoke so eloquently and explicitly," Anne couldn't hold back the sparkle in her eyes, nor smile on her lips. "Let us first meet the children with their nursemaid then perhaps together we will be able to find a solution suitable to us all. I wager we want the same for these young ladies."

_Yes_, Lady Anne Darcy commented silently, _they deserved to be brought up to their station in life. They are descended from noble houses on both sides. They bloodlines are venerable, and they should have every opportunity. Their mother's dowry, shared equally will ensure they make good matches. Even Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Williams understand these girls belong in society befitting their status. Their fate has been decided, they will be educated at Pemberley, Darcy's in all but name. _

"Oh, my," Lady Grace commented as Elizabeth toddled into the room before her much harried nursery maid. "She has the looks of a Darcy, does she not, Anne. All that dark hair and those sparkling brown eyes mean mischief." Before the lady could hold her tongue, she stated, "well, Miss, you will fit in very well at Pemberley with young Fitzwilliam."

Harriet, feeling quite out of her depth, nodded in dumbstruck agreement. Glancing toward her silent sister, Sophia found the courage to request, "I only hope you will allow us to spend time with them in their new home, for we will miss these girls immensely once they are removed to Derbyshire."

"Allow me a chance to settle Jane and Elizabeth," Anne found her smile equal parts gleeful and sadness, "and you may come for an extended stay at Pemberley. I should like to know you better, Mrs Bennet, and for us to have time to become reacquainted, Harriet."

"As easy as that," Sophia commented three days later on the lonely carriage ride back to Longbourn, "they are taken from us."

"They," Henrietta commented, "were never meant for us, as this journey has displayed. None of us could have seen this event, or the connections your daughter-in-law kept from us. Jane and Elizabeth will have access to wealth and consequence of which we can only dream. If the look of pure delight in Lady Anne's eyes speaks the truth, they will never want for love or affection, as they often do at Longbourn. No my dear sister, our little girls will be much better off where they are."


	4. Chapter Three - Something New

"Anne," George Darcy roared in the hope his extremely loud voice would carry to wherever his wife was situated. It was, at best, a vain hope when the sheer magnitude and number of Pemberley's private rooms were considered, let alone the entire house.

To the best of his knowledge, Darcy's wife and mother had arrived from London shortly after luncheon. Lady Anne preferred to break her journey at Meadowbrook Mannor, the ancestral home of her brother, Lord Matlock, on the long trek north. The carriage would make good time over the thirty miles between the estates with the current travelling conditions. Occupied with affairs of business, Mr Darcy chose to complete his tasks before going in search of his wife. Dear Anne liked to remove all the dust from her travelling attire, and change into more appropriate clothing before greeting her husband, even after a month apart.

Looking down at the reason for his raised voice, Mr George Darcy noted the dark haired, chocolate eyed toddler hanging onto his leg. One sticky hand seized the remains of a treat. In the other she clutched a much loved, but tatty, rag doll. Curiosity filled her angelic face rather than fear at his lionish roar. Then a look of pure devilish pride covered her features as she stared back unconcerned by his severe countenance. The little Miss seemed to challenge his authority with childish delight. George Darcy would look back on this moment as one of the most significant in his life, for it was the instant he fell for the little imp.

"Anne!" once again George Darcy tried to summon his wife, from where he knew not, but surely, she must have the answer to this conundrum. The girl did not belong to any of Pemberley's many tenants or servants. At least, none he knew of.

"What is it, Dearest," a very harried woman entered through the portal into the study looking almost wild. Grey eyes finally spotting the object of her search, Lady Anne allowed an unimpressed frown to cover her face as she glared at the child hiding behind her husband's leg. "Oh there you are Miss Elizabeth. I do not know how you managed to escape Mary-Jane and the nursery. You are as bad as Fitzwilliam was at the same age. I can see we are going to have to keep our eyes on you, and a key in the door."

Looking up to the woman who resembled her sister Jane, the child attempted to say, "Fitz?" What came out sounded more like "its" and was accompanied by a childish giggle.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam," Lady Anne smiled warmly at the child, now her initial fright had subsided. Two minutes in the same room, barely introduced to each other's company, and Elizabeth developed an instant bond with her son. "I know you remember meeting Fitzwilliam in the nursery just now. But you must not run away from your maid in such a fashion. It is most unbecoming of a young lady."

"I doubt," Darcy smirked, patting the child's head, "this little one understands you."

"I mean to start," his wife allowed one eyebrow to arch suggestively, "as I will go on."

"Who," George picked up the child only to have her cuddle into his lap and hide her face in his chest, "is this? Have we started collecting children because we cannot produce any of our own? Really, Anne, if you had asked, I would have attempted to make one with you."

Laughing heartily at his suggestion, she allowed her mirth and sadness to mix in equal portions. "I believe we have practiced enough, husband. It is I who fail in my duty and fall short of reaching a confinement," Anne stated, a moment of pure melancholy crossing her expressive face. She'd come to terms with the situation after her seventh miscarriage and agreed her health took precedence. "Still, you have your heir. Fitzwilliam is a strong, stout young man. But that I could have given him brothers and sisters."

"I only want you to be happy," George shared her sorrow. "If it means picking up every stray child and orphan, then so be it. We have enough to go around for several children. I have to say, you have chosen well. This one looks as though she might have Darcy heritage," he pulled the child away so he could take a good look. The little girl squirmed, seeking a return to the comfort and warmth George provided. The act forced a smile, "and the Darcy spirit."

When his wife of six and ten years allowed her lips to curl into a teasing smile, George quickly chuckled. "You will have to look beyond me, Anne, to find her sire. For how could I stray when I warm your bed every night?"

"I concede the point. Allow me to introduce your cousin, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her father is Mr Octavius Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire, husband to your late aunt, Lady Elizabeth Montague," Anne stated in an amused tone. "You remember I have been writing to my old friend, Harriet Williams, the Dowager to that estate for some time. As you know, I planned to meet with her while at Darcy House in London on a matter of some import. Well, you hold that reason in your arms."

"Indeed," Darcy prized the child's head up, so he could look her in the eye. "I am glad to finally meet you, Miss Elizabeth." Allowing the little one to once again burrow her head into his chest, George turned his attention towards his wife. "What has my mother to say on this subject?"

"You may ask her yourself when we take tea," Anne answered. "I confess, I withheld much of the Darcy links with Lord Montague's family in my communications to Longbourn. Until I introduced your mother to Mrs. William at Midland house last week, the Bennets had been quite ignorant of the strength of the connection between Miss Elizabeth and the Darcys of Pemberley. They have now been made aware, and surrendered the child willingly."

"You are a conniving woman, Anne," George smiled at her lovingly. "Am I to gather, this coup has been in the planning for some time?"

Sighing heavily, the lady attempted to coax the child from her husband lap. Elizabeth refused to be moved by the summons. "I am afraid the story is as old as time." Taking her time, Anne explained the history and how the new Mrs Bennet no longer wanted the product of a previous marriage in her home.

"So the man finally gave up his offspring for marital harmony," astonished, George stood, outraged. Cradling the innocent victim in a warm embrace, he carried the child to his wife so he could pace and consider this situation. Little Elizabeth had other ideas and refused to let go. Keeping the girl would affect more than the immediate family. This child, who was both his cousin and his mother's niece, required the protection of family. Pemberley had always taken care of its own. George Darcy had little doubt of his wife's intentions in bringing Elizabeth to Derbyshire. "What possessed him to allow such a charming little girl out of his sight? If she were ours, I would not let her out of the house for fear someone would snatch her. What of Elizabeth's feelings in this transaction. Has she shown any signs of distress at this sudden separation from all she knows?"

"We have acquired two new servants," Anne reported. "Mary-Jane and Sara have tended Elizabeth all her life. I felt it best Elizabeth have some familiarity while settling in. Both servants are good, hardworking girls, devoted to the children. I wish to keep them on."

"This Bennet cannot be a man of sense," Darcy shook his head, bewildered. "Giving up his flesh and blood. Why does he not control his new wife? Still his loss is our gain."

"Yes," Anne grinned. "However, you must remember the talk when Aunt Elizabeth married so far beneath her. It is fitting, George, that young Elizabeth come to live with us. She will be accorded all she deserves and her proper place in society. However," the toddler, understanding she was the centre of attention, squirmed in Darcy's arms, "she is as slippery as an eel."

"So she takes after our Fitzwilliam, then," George smiled. He could remember his son's antics at the same age. "I guess she **_is_** related to the Darcy's, giving as much trouble as possible."

"I believe," Anne sighed heavily, noticing the nursery maid at the office door, "there is more I must acquaint you with." Indicating Mary-Jane should bring in the other child, Jane immediately held out her arms, requesting to be held by Lady Anne. Quiet by nature, the little girl found comfort only in Anne's embrace. "The new wife stated twin girls taxed her nerves beyond her ability to cope. Three days in a carriage with these two and their nursemaids, and I can understand the amount of work they cause. I think we need to add another maid to cope with Elizabeth alone."

"Good Lord," George's good humour fell from his face on seeing Jane, "that child could be a copy of you. Would you introduce me?"

"This is Elizabeth's twin sister, Miss Jane Bennet." Anne watched as the child shyly buried her head into her shoulder but peeked out to look at Mr Darcy with, wide blue eyes. "They are as different in looks and personality as chalk and cheese."

"That I can see," George frowned. He'd remembered his wife saying something about these two well over a year ago. When Anne ceased talking about them, the Master of Pemberley had put the children from his mind. He had not understood the common ancestry at the time. However the current discussion made him recall the ancient ties to that minor estate. "How long are we to keep them? I should not like to grow attached, only to then have to hand them back."

Worried at the contentment he saw on his wife face, Mr Darcy did not want Mr Bennet to come calling in a month or year, demanding the return of his children. In the space of three minutes, little Elizabeth had stolen his heart. George had always wanted a daughter with laughing eyes the same colour as his son's. Besides, Fitzwilliam needed the company of other children of his social strata. While he considered young George Wickham a favourite, he would amount to little more than a tradesman, no matter how much education he conferred on the boy. Elizabeth and Jane were family, genteel bred and destine to become the wives of Gentleman.

"Forgive my plain speaking," Anne looked decidedly angry, "but as long as this new wife lives, we are to keep Elizabeth and Jane. And I hope Mrs Bennet has a long and healthy tenure at Longbourn."

"As do I," Mr Darcy added, leaving his work for another day. _After all, something as new and special as these two bewitching creatures only comes along once in a blue moon. The estate business can wait until tomorrow. For now, I should like to become better acquainted with my young cousins._

"I am complete now, Dearest," Anne sighed as they walked together towards the room used as a family parlour, each carrying a little girl. "If another child comes then so be it. With the addition of Jane and Elizabeth, I feel our family is perfect. Fitzwilliam has two sisters and a companion. Four children in the house is more than I ever could have wished for."

"Which of these two amusing ladies is eldest," George asked, content to see his beloved Anne happy. They had not particularly cared for each other at the beginning of their marriage. Matched on wealth and consequence by their parents, it was with time and familiarity that respect and affection grew, which finally turned to love. Now neither could imagine a life without the other.

"Jane, but only just," Anne smiled down at the child in her arms. They had entered the room used exclusively for the time spent with Fitzwilliam. He termed it their family parlour, and so it was to stay for many years to come.

Taking a seat, Anne indicated her husband should share the chaise with her. "Cecile," she called to the nearest servant, "please call Fitzwilliam down from the school room to join us for the remainder of the afternoon. Mr Astley may continue Young George's lesson until he is called to dine. Ask the kitchen to bring tea and the children's biscuits. Mary-Jane, please find the floor coverings we purchased in London for the girls. My maid will know which trunk." Facing her husband, Anne looked worried. "I do not want them to catch cold on this floor. They may stay below stairs for half an hour. Then it will be time for a nap."

"Anne," Mr Darcy warned, his gaze laced with unease, "you are treating these girls as your own. What if this silly Bennet man comes for them? How can we trust that he'll not change his mind?"

"I feel all will be right," Lady Anne Darcy smiled joyfully, not telling her husband of her long term goals. Indeed, he didn't need to know his mother agreed with both her assessment of the situation and plans. He would learn that soon enough. "Besides, both Mrs Harriet Williams and Mrs Sophia Bennet are to continue to write to me and pass along any information on that subject. They brought the girls situation to my attention only days after their birth, and have wished to have them well settled for some time. I had hoped the ladies could visit later in the summer."

"So long as I am not subjected to the New Mrs Bennet, and our children, new and old, are not disturbed," George looked thunderous, "I do not care who you invite to stay, My Love."

And so the Something New arrived at Pemberley Estate in Derbyshire. Both Jane and Elizabeth Bennet settled into their nursery and life at Pemberley as if born to it, although not without an issue or two. It was soon proved that Mary-Jane and Sara needed another nursemaid to help with the rambunctious, dark haired toddler. Mr Darcy approved the expense immediately. When Jane began to walk a fortnight later, she learnt to follow her more tenacious younger sibling, albeit more slowly, and with a poise and grace she would become celebrated for.

Even at fifteen months of age, Elizabeth had a need to follow her "Its" everywhere and it seemed Fitzwilliam didn't mind in the slightest. The girls felt but little for the change of circumstance and missed Longbourn even less. However, they became somewhat upset if removed from the presence of Mary-Jane, being at that age when separation from the one constant in their lives caused anxiety. It took time for the pair to completely shift their affections to Mr Darcy and Lady Anne. The reward was well and truly worth the wait.

George Wickham felt very differently about the twins, and more particularly Elizabeth, for it ushered in a new era at Pemberley. The new addition meant he fell further from grace and two steps down the pecking order. Mr Darcy no longer had time to devote to his godson, preferring the company of Elizabeth, usually with a doting Fitzwilliam in tow. These girls came with sizable fortunes and connections he could only ever hope for. Worst of all, his companion no longer took his part in any of his pranks, nor would he be the victim of them. Master Fitzwilliam Darcy, heir to Pemberley, protected young Elizabeth Bennet as though she was his full blooded sister instead of second cousin. He'd never admit it, but George Wickham felt the green eyed monster to be bested by a mere babe. Not once did he consider how this demonstrated his character in a very poor light.


	5. Chapter Four – Visitors Arrive

**AN:** Finally, we reach the first of the new material. This chapter did not appear in the original version. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Absolutely not," George Darcy shook his head with finality. Although he remembered consenting to the visit when Elizabeth and Jane first entered his house, he changed his mind when Anne brought up the subject some months ago. With this, her third petition in the same number of weeks, his anger flared. "I will not subject <strong><em>our girls<em>** to anyone with the name Bennet. I forbid it."

"Dearest," Lady Anne could have cried, yet she understood her husband's reaction to the news, "this is not the silly new wife, but a trusted correspondent. Mrs. Sophia Bennet will be accompanied by Mrs. Harriet Williams when they arrive at Pemberley in a fortnight's time. Both are the twins relations _and_," stressing the word to gain her husbands outraged attention, she continued only when he glared at her, "the sole reason they are now in our care. Had not Harriet brought this situation and the relationship between our families to my attention, we would not have Jane and Elizabeth. I think we own them at least this much."

"I want nothing to do with that insignificant estate," he roared, not at all pleased by his wife's request, "and even less with those who inhabit it. Our girls have settled in well to their nursery. Jane no longer cries when Mary-Jane is out of her sight and Elizabeth knows the gardens close to the house so well, when she escapes her nursery maid, we can be assured of her safety. She has the freedom to play outdoors as much as she likes and the company of Fitzwilliam as protection. I do not want these strangers descending upon our home and unsettling the girls. Besides, it has been over six months since Jane and Elizabeth have seen their Longbourn relations. They will not remember them, and I do not wish them too."

"Then there can be no harm in allowing Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Williams to visit as indifferent acquaintances," Anne concluded calmly. "They wish only to see how well the girls fair and ensure they have made a good decision in giving them into our care. It will settle Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Williams minds, and they will be well placed to satisfy any concerns of their father. Reassure them, they have made a choice which can only improve the girl's future prospects."

"What," Darcy paced the small space, three steps one way, turn and three back, "if they are here to remove Elizabeth and Jane from our care. I cannot lose them now, Anne, for they are as dear to me as if they were flesh and blood."

"Do you not think I feel the same way? Indeed, Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Bennet felt the same way," Anne stated in a quiet, melancholy tone, "when I took Jane and Elizabeth from them."

"What," George demanded, still concerned, "is the current situation at Longbourn?"

"The new Mrs. Bennet," Anne hesitated, not at her words but at the feeling the news generated within her, "has recently delivered a daughter into the nursery. It seems the child, called Mary, is the light of her life and she speaks of little else. Harriet assures me both mother and child are doing very well. Elizabeth would be in even more danger if she was returned, and even Jane would take second place to this new babe."

"Anne," Darcy recognised the lingering sadness in his wife's eyes. She had not given up hope of adding to their family. "Do not let his affect you. You have been content since the girls came to Pemberley. I do not wish to see such sadness in your eyes once again. I sincerely believed you to be happy with our brood."

"It is not the thought of being barren," she looked up into her husband's concerned eyes. "I wonder at women who can birth a child so easily and then leave them for others to raise. Oh, I know it is the fashion to visit the nursery but once a day, to have your children seen but not heard, to employ nursery maids and wet nurses to oversee their childhood, but I cannot, indeed refuse, to do it. The world comes alive when Elizabeth enters the room. She is joy and light. Jane takes such quiet delight in everything and everyone around her that happiness soon follows. Even Fitzwilliam smiles and laughs more than he once did. Having younger sisters to care for has changed our son for the better. I would not give this up for the world."

"Nor should you be expected too," Darcy smirked at the expressions rapidly crossing his wife's face.

"Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Williams have missed so much," Anne beseeched, "while your mother visits the girls in their nursery or the garden daily. We owe this much to Jane and Elizabeth. They should know their relations and that they thought enough of them to find a better situation. One day we must explain why they carry the name Bennet and not Darcy. It will be so much easier if they know from where they came and why such decisions were undertaken. Say you will allow Sophia and Harriet to visit? It is for the best."

"While I still do not like it," Darcy said with a shake of his head, "I will defer to your better judgement. But be very clear towards these women, Jane and Elizabeth, under no circumstance, will leave Pemberley before they are married, and from this house."

"You may come to regret that statement, my husband," Anne finally found something to smile at. "The girls are not yet two. I will not have them enter society until they turn eighteen and even then, they must reach their majority before they will be allowed to wed."

Shaking his head, Darcy secretly agreed. He would council his son, when the time came, to leave the taking of a bride as late as possible. He wished his children to stay at home as long as may be. However, Fitzwilliam would be required to attend first Eton and then Cambridge for a gentleman's education, as was expected of the Landed Gentry. Still, that day was many years off yet it caused a pang in the region of Mr Darcy's heart.

"I shall let you return to your ledgers," Anne broke into her husband's thoughts. "We will take tea in the Family Drawing Room at exactly three."

"I shall join you then," George Darcy bowed.

With a small sniff, Anne turned and left her husband's book room. She intended to seek her favourite room and her writing desk, the one with the gilt covered, carved legs given her as a wedding present from Mr. Darcy. There she would answer Harriet William's letter pleading for any news of Jane and Elizabeth. The lady had not requested a visit, but Anne honoured her promises. Lady Anne Darcy distinctly remembered inviting Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Bennet to Pemberley once the girls had settled.

"Settled they have," she muttered under her breath, taking out a quill. "It is time to show you how well they are doing so that you might encourage them to remain under our protection."

A week later, the Darcy coach left Pemberley empty. It returned to the estate carrying two ladies. Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Williams were no more than ten years Lady Anne's senior. They made the journey in relative comfort, arriving one week hence. Thrilled to be travelling in such luxury, Sophia and Harriet rather enjoyed the leisurely trip, which included a stop near Meadowbrook Manor.

"I hope your journey went well," Anne greeted her visitors on the steps of Pemberley. With the start of true autumn, many of the leaves had turned orange. It leant much beauty to the drive into Pemberley's valley.

"Thank you," Harriet William's smiled. Neither she nor her travelling companion had ever visited this particular estate. Although her eyes took in the magnificent prospect and the centuries old buildings, that had been added to and improved over the years, both ladies wished to see the young girls they'd placed in Lady Anne's care some six months ago. Yet, for Harriet, at least, she recalled that long ago summer spent thirty miles away at Meadowbrook, the seat of the current Lord Matlock, her hostess's brother. "I must thank you for allowing us an evening in the village near your ancestral home. I recall the summer we spent there with such joy."

Letting out a chuckle of amusement, Anne hurried the women inside lest the mounting wind bring a chill. "I am sure you are only being polite, Mrs William, or may I call you Harriet as we are related?" When that lady indicated her acceptance, a wide smile broke out on Anne's face. "I am sure, after removing the dirt from the road, there are two little girls you are very desirous to see."

"Pray, tell us," Sophia could not contain her anxiety at the mention of her granddaughters, "how do Jane and Elizabeth fare?"

As if the children knew they were discussed, Elizabeth toddled down the staircase at that very moment. Following behind, Jane took each step with much greater care, calling out to her sister to slow down. It appeared the pair had managed to slip their nursery maids once again. The three ladies looked to each other, and any awkwardness evaporated immediately.

"Elizabeth, Jane, come here," Anne called in a commanding voice.

Lizzy made a gleeful sound and charged to the woman she considered to be her mother. Anne swept-up the little girl, who was talking a mile a minute with only half of her words making sense, into her arms. Jane, as usual, followed behind with more poise and decorum.

"Down," Elizabeth demanded, before pointing to her sister, "up"

"I can see," Sophia remarked, "that little has changed. Miss Elizabeth is as much a handful as always."

"Yes," Anne confessed, holding tight to the child in her arms before she made a run for the door and the garden beyond. "It is time for you to meet your Grandmama and Great Aunt, young lady."

"Out," Elizabeth asked, once the ladies had been introduced. Looking around wildly, she spied her nursery maid.

"Ma'am," Mary-Jane curtseyed, watching her charges from a suitable distance.

"Is it not too windy," Sophia asked with a slight frown, "for the girls to be outside?"

With a delighted chuckle, Anne stated, "I wish you the best of luck, keeping Elizabeth indoors. She will not stay out long and there is a walled garden we have turned over for just such occasions. It is well protected from the elements and perfect for a child to run off her exuberance. Once you have washed the dust from your travelling clothes, we will take tea in the family parlour. Then I shall give you a tour, if you are not tired from your journey."

Sophia and Harriet, reluctantly, allowed a maid to escort them to their rooms. After refreshing, they joined the family to tea. The event would have been somewhat difficult, had it not been for Miss Elizabeth. When she entered the room, the Longbourn ladies understood her personality positively affected the demeanour of Mr Darcy and his son. Both had been taciturn and silent until the little girl entered.

"Mr. Darcy," Sophia sighed with regret later that evening, "loves our girls as a papa should. My heart aches for my son, who is denied such a bond."

Harriet said little as they climbed the stairs, for what could she add. Octavius, whom she loved as a son, had made his bed. Now he must face the consequences of a hasty marriage to a most unsuitable woman. Mrs. Bennet had wished to join them on the journey north, not to see Jane or Elizabeth, but to make the acquaintance of Lady Anne Darcy. Even though Mary was but a babe, she held delusions of marrying the girl to Fitzwilliam Darcy. Thankfully, the woman once again believed herself with child. This Octavius used to deny her permission to go to Pemberley, understanding the ramifications should she ever be allowed to meet the Darcys.

"It seems Lady Anne has thought of everything," Sophia stated, watching her sister struggle up the last three stairs, "for she has placed us on the first floor."

"Indeed," Harriet's stiff legs hampered her progress. "I am unable to make the nursery on the fourth floor."

Neither had seen anything quite as grand a Pemberley. Their suite boasted a sitting room between their bed chambers. Lady Anne afforded each a personal maid for the duration of their stay. Even the nursery maids were to accommodate the older ladies if they wished to see the girls, not that Elizabeth like being cooped up. In this regard, Sophia and Harriet found themselves in the walled garden for the sole pleasure of watching the girls play outdoors each and every day of their month long stay. Whenever possible, young Fitzwilliam joined his foster sisters in their play. Of the companion, they saw little. It did not take long to understand Lady Anne did not trust the boy and kept him from her children as much as possible, especially the girls.

"Winter has come early this year," Anne commented one evening several days before Sophia and Harriet were to depart. "I fear the roads are not fit for travelling."

Glancing at each other, neither Mrs. Bennet nor Mrs. Williams wished to outstay their welcome. However the inches of snow from last night looked to be the first of several days' worth. They did not look forward to returning to Longbourn. The voyage on wet, muddy roads, even in the Darcy travelling coach, would be arduous to say the least.

"I have spoken with my husband," Anne continued, hoping she had read situation correctly, "and we wish you to continue with us, if Mr. Bennet can spare you. I confess, I do not like the idea of you travelling in such weather."

"We shall stay," Harriet answered, "but only for so long as the roads are impassable. I do not wish to be forward, however, Sophia and I should like to return as the children grow. We do not want to lose the acquaintance now."

"Nor shall you," Anne smiled, "for Elizabeth and Jane have become very fond of you. No, I hope next year you will come at the start of spring and then again with autumn and stay for a month complete. Nay, more if Mr. Bennet may spare you."

And so it occurred that Sophia Bennet and Harriet William made a biannual pilgrimage to Pemberley. Shortly after their visit, when the twins turned six, Sophia Bennet took ill and passed suddenly. Unwilling to remain in the Dower house alone, and her joints becoming increasingly stiff, Harriet Williams welcomed an invitation from her middle daughter to live with her. The journey from a small village but five mile from Poole on the South Coast to Pemberley became too much for the lady. Besides, she had grandchildren enough of her own to spoil. However it would be many years before the letters between Lady Anne and Harriet declined and then stopped.


	6. Chapter Five – A Growing Family

"Please don't die," Elizabeth cried, jumping on the bed and hugging Lady Anne Darcy with a vice like grip.

Finally allowed into their mothers' bed chamber, Elizabeth led her four and a half year old twin sister by the hand. Jane, tears streaming down her cheeks, had heard their foster parent's screams during the night. Startled awake by the unusual noise, fear held the girls motionless for some minutes, until they realised it was Lady Anne who made the horrendous and horrifying noise. Elizabeth, the more adventurous of the two, although distressed, rose to investigate. For the first time in her memory at Pemberley, she discovered the nursery door locked from the outside and not a nursery maid in sight. Crawling into her sibling's bed, the pair huddled together; their nurse found them asleep in each other's arms as the sun rose above the horizon. A little after daybreak, dressed but refusing to eat until they discovered if all was well, the pair camped outside the room of the only female parent they remembered.

"What makes you think I would die?" a tired Anne asked, shocked by the pallor of the young girls' skin. Both looked emotionally and physically exhausted. This situation proved far from normal, and she had to wonder what created such dismay in her usually hearty girls.

The Midwife had cleaned and refreshed Lady Anne to accept Mr Darcy and the children for a very short visit. After an intense and very pain-filled twenty-four hour labour, George Darcy had been given strict instructions. Each child would have but a few minute to glimpse their mother and new sister so as not to further tire Lady Anne. Added to this, the latest edition to the family would be awake soon and demand another feed. The midwife and physician were rapidly attempting to locate a wet nurse due to Georgiana's early arrival.

"We heard you," Jane managed through her tears, timidly crawling into the woman's outstretched arms.

"Wickham said," Elizabeth spoke up with a frown marring her little face, set in a determined expression of dislike, "when you had the baby, you would take sick and die. Just like you almost did with Fitz.."

"You heard the arrival of your new sister," Lady Anne managed a chuckle through her exhaustion. She'd never tell them of the excruciating labour that seemed never to end. Or of her husband's terror at the amount of blood lost after the birth, leaving her feeling weak and exhausted. Even her trusted companion and midwife, Teresa had worn a look of trepidation, fearing for her mistress's life. Still, three quarters of an hour's sleep revived Anne Darcy somewhat. Now ensconced upon clean sheets with the first of her family, Elizabeth on one side and Jane on the other, she felt euphoric rather than racked with pain. "We have spoken of this. It is a woman's job to bring a child into the world. For some, like Mrs Easton it is easy."

"She has eight babies," Jane's eyes became round as she looked for more children within the room.

"Yes," Anne managed a very tired giggle, "while I only had two. I am very thankful to your Papa Bennet for letting me keep my special girls without birthing you."

"But our Mama Bennet died," Elizabeth's little mind made the links to her own situation. She'd been told the story of Lady Elizabeth Jane many times, and why they had come to live at Pemberley. Of course, in his determined best, Wickham placed his own interpretation on the event and twisted it to his advantage. However, Fitzwilliam soon put the situation to rights, his parents none the wiser for the havoc caused. "We don't want to you die too."

"I have no intentions," Anne became serious, "of going anywhere when I have three beautiful daughters and a fine son to look after. Elizabeth," she looked to the frightened child, "it is very hard work and I will need to sleep much over the coming days. Your sister slumbers but little, however often it may occur, and requires all of my attention when she is awake. She will demand much of my time as she grows in the following months, leaving me precious little to share with you, your sister, Fitzwilliam and Papa. I pray my big girls will offer their assistance, as I am going to need you and Jane to help me."

"Oh," the dark haired girl understood that meant less time with Mama in the future but a new playmate when the baby grew bigger. Beside, both Jane and Elizabeth liked to help Mama in any way possible. She always seemed pleased, praised them excessively and had the greatest patience in the world for a never ending stream of questions.

The blood loss form Georgiana's birth made Lady Anne weak. It had been the same after Fitzwilliam came into the world, yet she did not have three other children to care for then. Somehow, the Mistress of Pemberley knew she would have to find the time and energy to give, especially to the twins who had lost so much already. Still the task ahead suddenly appeared somewhat daunting.

Indeed a few minutes with her girls pushed Lady Anne into complete exhaustion. She wanted, no, needed to see her son as well. Fitzwilliam's place in society, his respectability as a gentleman of means and education demanded he would soon leave for school. While Anne argued for an establishment within easy reach of Pemberley, Mr Darcy insisted upon Eton, where every Master of their ancestral estate had been educated since that school opened. Such thoughts, along with the accompanying frown proved the last straw. Watching carefully from the other side of the room, Teresa decided the twins needed to go.

"You have seen your Mama and now know all is well," the midwife moved towards the bed, ushering the girls off. "She needs her sleep. Babies are hard work as they need much attention. You may come back tomorrow for a visit, if your Mama is well enough. Now, send your brother in, but tell him he may only stay a few minutes."

"Anne," George warned his wife later the same day. She looked pale and her breathing laboured. Few events had ever frightened Mr Darcy, fewer still made him feel inadequate. The birth of his only biological daughter achieved both in good measure.

"Do not worry so," Anne managed a very slight smile, not much recovered from receiving her children. "I will be well. Teresa has told Mrs Reynolds what I am to eat." Screwing up her nose, she stated, "Beef consume, beef stew, beef pies. I shall begin to look like a cow."

"It is not that which worries me," George stated with a frown and furrowed brow. "Dearest, why are you refusing the wet nurse? Let the woman we have uncovered do some of the work so you may regain your strength quickly."

Anger laced Lady Anne's words, as a fire ignited deep in her blue orbs. On this subject, she did not wish to hold with society's point of view. "I did not need one with Fitzwilliam," she reminded her husband. "I will not use one with Georgiana. The servant engaged for this duty has not yet finished her current post, nor is she likely to for several weeks. Besides, Sarah, her replacement, has her own babe to feed as you well know."

"By the time Elizabeth and Jane came to us," George attempted to remain calm while seeking to change his wife's mind, "they no longer needed a wet nurse." Taking in a deep breath, he hoped his gamble would work. "Yet you have bonded with the twins as if they were your children. It will be the same with Georgiana."

"It is not the same," Anne said in a heated voice as a cry split the air. Looking to the cradle at her bedside, she beckoned and the nurse brought the swaddled bundle to her mistress. "I do not have the energy to argue with you on this. I will go against propriety and feed my child, just as I did with your heir," pausing she arched an eyebrow as she attached the baby to her breast, "or we will have a wet nurse and separate beds from this day on."

Shaking his head, George Darcy knew when to retreat. Now would not be a good time to press his point as his wife's emotions had proved extremely unpredictable as her confinement drew near. It had been the same both before, and after, Fitzwilliam birth. Yet again, Teresa insisted Lady Anne needed rest to regain the blood she had lost. The intensely intelligent woman also suggested they start with removing the cradle and allowing Sarah to take the babe for one feed overnight. It seemed like a good plan to Mr Darcy, who enacted it immediately. Luckily, his wife did not seem to notice, or at least did not comment.

"Papa," Elizabeth called as she entered the study five days later. All of the children now missed Lady Anne's daily appearance in the nursery, when they were allowed and required to join her for tea in the family parlour. It had become their favourite part of the day, having their mother's complete and undivided attention.

"Come in," George smiled at the child. He, too, had been affected by his wife's ill health. Darcy's mind would not settle to business, and so he welcomed the distraction. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Mama's maid, Lilly, thought we should all know that Mama ate her entire tray," the child almost danced with joy.

Lady Anne's personal servant took it upon herself to stand like a sentinel over her mistress, ensuring that lady did not exhaust herself. Teresa now visited once a day, to confirm mother and baby were continuing in good health. The Midwife had decreed the children should not see their mother unless well enough.

"That," Darcy joined in the amusement, "is good news indeed."

"Lilly let me carry the tray into the room and stay while Mama ate," Elizabeth beamed, happy to do this small service to a most beloved parent. "Mama said she will sit in the Master's drawing room and have tea with all of us tonight," reported the over-joyed child, obviously happy with this piece of news.

"Does she just," George allowed one eyebrow to rise, displaying his displeasure. While he had noticed the increasing colour on his wife's cheeks over the last days, and it seemed a diet of beef aided her recovery, he was not convinced by the rapid results.

"Please say we can, Papa," Elizabeth pleaded with her big brown eyes. "Jane and Fitz would like to be in Mama's company. We have all missed her so much."

"Back to the nursery now," Mr Darcy took on a formidable facade. "I will have you and Jane called when dinner is ready."

As he watched the child exit the room, she glanced over her shoulder with a frown, little eyes glaring with determination. Elizabeth, they had quickly come to realise, could be stubborn in the extreme. It was not a respectable quality in a young woman and one Mr. Darcy needed to have trained out of her while keeping her spirit very much intact. Shaking his head, George placed his pen in the holder. Closing the ledger, he knew nothing else would be done today. Still, he felt impelled to go to his wife and see her miraculous recovery for himself.

"You are looking better," he commented, sitting on the end of the bed.

"I am still weak," Anne answered truthfully. "I have not left my bed for more than a few minutes, but that will change tonight for I am in need of company."

"You think it wise," George looked worried. "I do not want you doing too much too soon."

"I am not capable of returning to my duties," Anne scolded with a light-hearted tone. "I know my own strength, and one family tea will not diminish that, at least not more than I can stand. Do not think me ignorant of the mistakes I made after Fitzwilliam's birth. I hurried back into my role far too quickly. It may be months before I can return as the Mistress of Pemberley. In the meantime, your mother has stepped back into the duties. I believe she will enjoy it immensely. Lady Grace has precious little to do, other than dote on the children. Indeed, I had hoped your mother would keep some of the lesser duties permanently, if that is her wish."

"Am I to have any say in the running of my own house?" George attempted a hard, unforgiving façade, but it broke with a twinkle in his eye at the last minute. He had been exceedingly pleased when his wife and mother seemed to admire one another after his marriage. Time had strengthened the bond.

"Running the house," Anne arched an eyebrow in mock anger, "is woman's work. That is why you married me."

"You mistake my motives, My Dear," Darcy teased. "I have always been able to rely upon my mother to perform that office."

"And it seems, Lady Grace will take them on once again. Be off with you now. Georgiana is about to demand her next meal." On queue the baby started to softly whimper. Sarah, the wet nurse handed the child off to her mistress with a perplexed expression. Shaking her head, Anne glared at her husband. "Do not think me ignorant of the fact you have our daughter removed to the other bed chamber for the midnight feeding. I will allow you this, but no more. Now, collect Elizabeth, Jane and Fitzwilliam for tea at four O'clock. I will expect you by no later than quarter past."

Frowning as he left, Mr. Darcy didn't argue with his wife. In the past it proved futile when she had made her mind up. In this, Elizabeth appeared much like her mother. However, the gentleman did wonder why his wife declined to include Young George in the invitation. The boy had lived at Pemberley all his life, taking up residence in the main house nye on a year prior to the twins arrival. Until Jane and Elizabeth came, he'd been as much of the family as their son.

"I will have to watch the boy more carefully," Darcy decided, understanding Fitzwilliam's acquaintance with his childhood friend seemed to be waning. Unexpectedly it induced the bond between brother and sister to strengthen. This, George Darcy came to the sudden realisation, he would need to judiciously monitor. Indeed, binding Little Elizabeth's future to Pemberley by marriage was an appealing thought. The question remained, how to achieve such an outcome when the children had been raised as siblings.


	7. Chapter Six – True Colours

**_"_**Goodwyn," George Darcy roared. Calling for the footman stationed at the door of his office, with a thunderous look upon his face. Calming significantly, if not easily, the Master of Pemberley remembered to whom he would soon be speaking. Lowering his tone and composing his face, which took much effort, Mr Darcy requested in a more normal voice, "please escort Miss Elizabeth from the nursery. I wish to speak with my **_daughter_**."

Eyeing the two boys before him, Darcy deliberately stressed the final word. He didn't quite know what to do with the feuding pair before him. He should be furious with Fitzwilliam for keeping this from him, but could not find it within his heart to chastise his only son. Yet, regarding Young George, here his emotions warred for, in perpetrating the crime, it did not show the boy's qualities in a prudential light. The one thing Mr. Darcy did know: neither boy on the cusp of manhood would tell him the entire truth. Not as blind to his ward's insincerity and inappropriate behaviour as his son thought, Mr Darcy had to use his trump card.

"Miss Elizabeth, Sir," the servant offered a few minutes later.

The girl followed behind Goodwyn, trailing in his shadow, for once cowering slightly. Her hand went to the left side of her head, to cover the plait that should have resided there. Undoubtedly she'd managed to escape the Governess and had been caught listening at the door, awaiting her Papa's summons. Unable to see Fitzwilliam get into trouble on account of Young George, Elizabeth could be relied upon to tell the truth. Jane on the other hand wanted to see only the good in all people and would make excuses. Darcy thanked the Lord Georgiana was yet too young to create trouble.

A single glance at the child and he could see the tear tracks down her face. Yet Mr Darcy could not discern if they were for her loss, her brother's chastisement or Wickham's efforts. Signalling the child to approach, Darcy noticed the missing locks immediately and his countenance changed to one of barely concealed fury. Pulling the child onto his knee, George Darcy let Young Wickham see the brunt of his anger. Hurting Elizabeth, by far his favourite, was akin to hurting him and he had no qualms in displaying it.

"Tell me what happened," George spoke softly to the frightened child in his arms. Protective as a bear, he did not growl at Elizabeth. Darcy needed her co-operation to establish the facts of what occurred earlier this morning.

"Wickham," Elizabeth stated, glaring at the sullen boy, "borrowed my plait."

"How does one borrow a plait?" enquired Mr Darcy. At another time, he would look back on this incident with unbridled humour. At the moment, to have the six year old seated on his knee, one side of her head missing much hair, became a travesty he could not bear.

"That is what I asked when he took to it with the scissors in his hand. Afterwards, when Fitz saw, he said you cannot borrow a plait," confused the six year old looked to her father figure. "Can you borrow a plait, Papa? How will I get it back onto my head after he is finished with it? He did not ask if he could borrow it. I believe Wickham told an untruth, but he knew what he was about."

"I'm afraid, Elizabeth," George sighed heavily, "you cannot reattach a plait once it has been cut off. We shall have to cut the other one to even you up. Never fear, your locks will grow back. Now, tell me what happened after George removed the plait from your head?"

"Fitz found Wickham in the walled garden and became angry. He demanded Wickham confess what he had done to Mama," closing her eyes, Elizabeth tried to remember the sequence of events. "Only Georgiana, who had followed us from the nursery, started crying. Jane tried to quiet her so Mrs Forrester would not take notice. Before I could go and show Mama, Wickham began to tease Fitz like he always does…"

"George teases Fitzwilliam?" Mr Darcy interrupted. His son wore a severe expression while Young George looked shocked, as though Elizabeth told a lie.

"Only when there are no adults around to catch him," confessed an innocent Elizabeth. "He teases me too. Wickham says the most awful things to upset us, like telling me Mama would die when Georgiana was born. Fitz always tells him to stop, but he never does. Then Wickham pushes and scratches until Fitz slaps him. Then **_HE_** runs to you and Fitz gets into trouble. I do not like Wickham."

"Why do you call Young George, Wickham?" asked Mr Darcy with a slight frown. There were so many levels to this, he needed time to think upon them all.

"He is wicked," Elizabeth giggled, continuing in a stage whisper, "Wicked Wickham. I do not like him; no, not at all."

"And what," Darcy attempted a neutral expression, "is your sister's opinion?"

"Georgiana is too little, silly, Papa," Elizabeth giggled. Suddenly she sobered, "Jane smiles politely but is determined to stay out of Wicked Wickham's way."

"I see," Mr Darcy stated, with a decisive nod. He knew how to act. Giving Elizabeth a gentle hug, he removed the child from his knee. "Go back to the schoolroom now. Please tell your governess I will be along shortly to speak with her on this matter. In the meantime, have your maid see what she can achieve before you come to the family parlour for tea."

"Papa," Elizabeth bit her lip as she glanced at her favourite, "will Fitz get into trouble."

"You will," now Mr Darcy had to turn his façade stern, "if you do not do as I say right now."

"Yes, Sir," Elizabeth frowned. At the door she turned for a second to look towards Fitzwilliam. He smiled reassuringly at his sister, who smiled back before she disappeared.

"You may leave us George," Darcy dismissed the boy, he eyes never leaving those of his heir. "Wait outside until I have finished with my son. I shall deal with you then."

Nodding but giving Fitzwilliam a sidelong glance, Wickham did as he was bid. To do less would bring his Godfather's ire. George Darcy didn't miss the fourteen year old's insolent expression, even though he took pains to hide it. Left with only his son, Darcy indicated the boy should approach him. Indeed, he offered the seat across the desk as a sign they were to approach the following discussion as one man to another. However, Fitzwilliam refused which displayed his intent for the upcoming discussion.

"It is well past time," Darcy explained gently, slightly confused at his sons behaviour, "you attended Eton."

"I do not wish to go away to school," Fitzwilliam stated without emotion.

"Nor did I at your age," sighed his father. Leaning back into his chair, Darcy rubbed his tired eyes. "But it is expected for those of our situation in life, son. With wealth comes great responsibility, something I strive to teach you. When you are finished there, it will be to Cambridge to round out your gentleman's education. I had thought to send Young George with you."

"Please do not, Father," Fitzwilliam implored, a look of despair crossing his face.

"Would you prefer I allowed him to remain here?" asked Darcy in a neutral tone, wondering how much animosity really existed between the boys.

"Elizabeth would be no safer at Pemberley than Longbourn," Fitzwilliam's expression hardened, "if you allowed Wickham to remain here."

"Do you also think of Young George as Wicked Wickham?" enquired Mr Darcy.

"I do not think, Papa," Fitzwilliam's voice quieted. He stood, tall and proud before his father's desk resolute in the knowledge he was about to impart. "I know he is wicked. Ask any of the maids about his dealings with them. Wickham does not treat women as a gentleman should."

"Why does George tease Elizabeth?" enquired Darcy with a frown. He'd heard whispers about his ward which unsettled him. Nothing to bring alarm, but enough for the boy's behaviour to border on disrespectful.

"Because I like Elizabeth and choose to devote time to my sister," Fitzwilliam stood to his full height. "Wickham is very mean to Elizabeth. He has tried to be mean to Jane, but she is so good natured he cannot go through with it. Elizabeth reacts to his taunts and tricks. Besides," sighing heavily, the young heir confessed, "he knows I will react too, and uses this knowledge against me."

"How long has this been going on?" Darcy requested.

"Since the day Elizabeth arrived," Fitzwilliam confessed.

"When were you going to tell me?" questioned the older man.

"You should have worked it out by now, father," anger laced the son's words. "Elizabeth has been telling you, but you refuse to listen."

"Perhaps I have been waiting for you to come to me, Fitzwilliam," Darcy rebuked. "You will be the Master of Pemberley one day and must learn to negotiate disputes between tenants. This situation is no different."

"If you send me to Eton, you will leave all my sisters exposed," Fitzwilliam stated. "I have been interceding on behalf of Elizabeth and Jane for many years. It is Wickham that runs to you to have the dispute settled when he cannot win against me."

"What would you have me do?" George glared at his son, not yet willing to give up on Young George completely. After all, Darcy had promised his late steward to give the boy every opportunity and further is career.

"Have him enter an apprenticeship," suggested Fitzwilliam, "perhaps as a midshipman in the navy. He will have the opportunity to earn his way up the ranks to a respected officer, with study and hard work. It is a noble profession and fitting his station. You may even aid him in finding suitable berths, when the time comes."

"It is a hard life," Darcy returned.

"Then perhaps Wickham will learn something," the young man spat. "He is idle, deceitful and artful. The navy will teach him these are not the qualities that make a good character."

"I will take your suggestion under consideration," George said, dismissing the boy. "Your Master awaits you in the schoolroom."

Mr George Darcy, Lord and Master of Pemberley Estate, felt his heart break into a million tiny pieces. True, Young George was the son of his late steward. The boy had lived in the main house since the age of six and on the estate all his life. Laura Wickham took ill when Young George was but three years old and never recovered. His father passed a few years later while seeing to his duties. On his death bed, Darcy agreed to sponsor the orphan. Since then, Young George became yet another Darcy ward.

Calling the boy into his office, Darcy looked him over. A slightly self-satisfied smirk invaded Wickham's expression. Self-confidence oozed from every pore. Although he stood before Darcy, dressed as a gentleman, Young George Wickham could never be one.

_Am I setting this boy too high_, George considered, _in offering him a gentlemen's education? I have allowed him to be my son's equal when such is just not possible? Then there is the current issue of his blatant disregard for My Elizabeth and her person. He is fourteen, almost a man, yet he can cut the hair of a child without her permission. What am I to do?_

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Darcy's expression hardened into stone as he forced himself to face the boy.

"I over-stepped the bounds of propriety," Wickham sounded sincere. However Darcy noted the body language. What the boy said and the way he acted were at odds.

"Has this ever happened before?" George demanded. He'd been deliberately obtuse in his choice of words.

"Never," Wickham offered with a contrite expression.

"Never?" George eyed the boy.

"I have never cut a plait off a young girl before," he expanded.

"What made you do it?" Darcy requested in a severe tone.

Remaining silent, Wickham didn't think George Darcy wanted the truth. Yet he felt loath to lie. The man had always treated him well. Without the Darcy backing and money, George Wickham would be poor and destitute.

"What about," examining him closer, George Darcy asked, "teasing Elizabeth," Wickham grew a little restless, "or inciting my son to violence," the restlessness increased to agitation, "because he defended a young girl against a much older opponent."

The trump card played, George Wickham became uneasy. Darcy knew Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam told the truth. Not that he ever doubted the pair. Both were too artless to try anything like that on him, and each abhorred dishonesty. However, Darcy needed to see the confession from the boy before him to make it real.

"Do you think I haven't seen the bruises you give my son," Darcy rounded on Wickham as the facts suddenly fitted the growing picture in his mind, "the ones he tries to hide to keep you out of trouble. Or the caution in Elizabeth's gaze every time her eyes rest on you. Or the expression of loathing Fitzwilliam levels at you when you get the devilish look in your eye, and the pair of you think I'm not looking."

Much to Wickham's credit, the boy knew when to stay quiet. He also knew when to take a licking. Standing before a very angry George Darcy, Wickham looked down at his boots, willing the resentment in his expression to disappear.

"Report to the stables," Darcy decided. "I am sure Mr. Fitzpatrick can find something for you to do while I will consider your future. Until I have, you are not to go near any of **_my_** daughters. If you do, I will take to you with my riding crop. Do you understand me!"

"Yes, Sir," Wickham answered humbly without looking up. If he did, this hatred of the Bennet sisters, especially Miss Elizabeth would show.

"What is to be done," George pleaded with his wife as they readied for bed that evening. He had stewed on the issue all evening and needed the council of a good woman to aid him through this dilemma.

"I do not like the boy," Lady Anne frowned, picking at her night-dress. "My maid tells me he has attempted to take the virtue of several of the youngest servants with his pleasing manner and promises of adoration and marriage. They now protect each other from his roving hands and silver tongue."

"I had not thought," Darcy swallowed hard, "it as bad as this!"

"You are blinded by your affection for the boy and the want of a second son," Anne suddenly looked up into the chocolate eyes of her husband. "I understand. If Jane and Elizabeth had not come, I would not have felt complete. However we must remember the girls are genteel bred. George Wickham can never become one of our circle, as much as you may want it for him. The best he can hope for is a gentleman's education and a good position."

"Fitzwilliam suggested I send Young George to the Navy," Darcy sighed.

"Our son shows good judgement," Lady Anne smiled. "Perhaps the boy will learn his place in society for he covets Pemberley, or at least the wealth and bounty it provides, without wishing to dirty his hands."

_That_, George Darcy did not dare to inform his wife, _I found out from my Stable Manager this afternoon. Yet the life of a sailor is hard. Perhaps it will be the making of him. I will talk to my brother in law Matlock when next we are in town._

"You told Fitzwilliam," Anne wanted to snuggle down into the covers rather than think about the loss of her oldest child, "that he is to go to Eton, when they take in the new class next year."

"We will take the family to Rosings as planned for a month in June," George Darcy sighed, settling beside his wife. "I have written to the Head Master of that establishment. Fitzwilliam starts at Eton in August. We will stay in London in between."

_In less than nine months_, Lady Anne lamented, _I am to lose my only son. Then again, perhaps he will not be the only son in this house by then. I must tell my husband what I suspect, before Fitzwilliam begins his journey to manhood. How I will miss him, but I believe Elisabeth will miss him more._

"Dearest," Anne sighed. "I have a confession of sorts."

"I wondered when you would tell me your thoughts," George Darcy, understanding where his wife's mind strayed, allowed his hand to brush against a sensitive nipple. "You have not declined my attentions for many weeks. Has the sickness come upon you yet."

"It has not," Anne declaired, somewhat thankful. "Teresa is of the opinion my child bearing days are over. However I hope she his wrong on this occasion, and I may yet bring another son to Pemberely's nursery."

"Let us see what the future brings," Darcy sighed.


	8. Chapter 7 – Change is in the Wind

March 1807,

My Dear Brother,

I write to you on a most urgent matter. Be not alarmed, Lady Anne and the children are well. Fitzwilliam is to start at Eton in August. He is no more looking forward to commencing at that great institution than we did at the same age. Georgiana grows as quickly as a weed every day. She is a delight to her mother and sisters. Elizabeth and Jane continue with us, and I cannot say how glad I am in that respect. Neither Anne nor I could give them back to that silly Bennet fellow after so many years living at Pemberley. They are, for all intents and purposes, Darcys in every aspect. I have even considered changing their name to reflect this. I do believe that Bennet would not give a damn for he has not once written to me of his children.

That is not why I write to you. Indeed, your sister and I have long kept our joyous news from you, in fact from society in general. We are soon to expect the arrival of another Darcy. After so many years of marriage, Anne is once again with child. We have not published the fact, but my wife entered her confinement this very day. I will not deny I am terrified at the prospect, however Anne feels the last months have proved much less effort than her previous lying-ins. She is looking forward to greeting her babe, while I pray everything continues with such ease.

On a more troubling note, I have a matter that concerns Young George Wickham. It appears my affection for the boy has blinded me to his more dissolute habits. His life at Pemberley has taught him to be idle and indulgent. He covets the same advantages and position as Fitzwilliam but refuses any instruction in responsibility and becomes increasingly irresponsible. For example, some time ago, the young man removed one of Elizabeth's plaits without her permission. Although her hair grows, it has not yet obtained its previous length. This situation is untenable and I know not what to do with the boy; Fitzwilliam feels he needs to guard her from the boy. As you know, my cousin was removed from her father for her protection. I cannot allow her to come to harm in the only home she has ever known. She is blood-related, therefore the closest of family, and must be protected at all cost.

To this end, Fitzwilliam has forwarded a plan to gain a position in the Navy for Young George. It is this on which I wish your advice, for the navy is a hard life, especially at his advanced age. As you know, most start well before they are three and ten. However, George has been given every opportunity, both of education and society, but still does not live up to all he has been taught. I fear he will never make a gentleman. I feel I have failed him while I know there is little else I can do. For the time being, he has been sent to Carre's Grammar School in Lincolnshire to remove him from our household. The Masters have been made aware of the reasons for his tenure. I can only hope his character will undergo some improvement.

We will be travelling to London and then on to Kent in June. Initially we had thought to spend the entire month with Lady Catherine. As the new babe's crying will sorely test her nerves, my wife wrote to your sister and we are to cut our visit to a fortnight, Anne's health permitting. I will travel ahead of the party and call at Meadowbrook Manor to discuss this matter with you if that is agreeable.

Yours Sincerely

George Darcy.

~~ooOOoo~~

George,

I send this note with my man servant as Admiral Edward Clay is currently visiting Manchester. He is sure to know of a Captain willing to take on a boy of George Wickham's age. I will approach an acquaintance for an introduction and make the arrangements. I do not think the young many could do better. Pray, write immediately as to your instructions and my servant will deliver your answer so I may make the arrangements as soon as may be.

James Fitzwilliam.

~~ooOOoo~~

My Dearest Sister,

Anne why did you not tell your nearest relations you are with child and currently confined, most likely a mother for the third time as you are reading this. A single word from you and I will travel to Pemberley post haste to be at your side. Surely you need your older sister at such a time. Henry and Richard are both away at school. Emma and Susan would adore spending time with their cousins. As to your plan for visiting Catherine, I will not bore you with my opinion on that score. Please write as soon as maybe on your health and welfare.

As to the matter of young George Wickham, I should think Carre's Grammar School too much for the son of your late steward. The boy, no matter how much education and society you are able to give him, will set his expectations too high. I'm sorry to say it, but I believe your son has the right of it. A commission in the Navy is more than the boy should expect. My husband received a letter at the same time as your last missive. As both you and George have brought up the subject, we have compared our opinions. They are the same as yours. He should be removed from Pemberley as soon as maybe, and permanently, so as not to further injure Elizabeth. You have been very good to him. At almost five and ten, it is time he made his own way in the world.

As to the demand from that silly Bennet man requesting his daughters visit now his mother has passed and his aunt moved to Poole, no, I say. Your home has been good enough for the grand-daughters of an Earl these past six years. Indeed, Jane and Elizabeth have the society of Georgiana who is their equal in breeding and consequence. In this, all the girls deserve to be brought up with an eye to their future prospects, and in a sphere where they will attract suitable matches. What, pray tell, can a country gentleman of little means offer your girls?

I am in complete agreement with you, sister. He gave them into your care for their protection from a most silly second wife without fortune or connection. The reason for that protection still inhabits his home as mistress. So, I ask what has changed to bring about this demand. Although the grandmother and aunt have come to you twice a year since Elizabeth and Jane came to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet has not so much as written a letter to Mr. Darcy regarding their welfare. Now his source of information has ceased, he makes demands. James, and even my son, Henry, were aghast at the thought, particularly after George wrote they are Darcys in all but name. They are still very young, and could easily be upset by such intrusions. You obviously both see the girls as your own and I can scarce disagree on this. They are such wonderful girls, a credit to you, Anne. Both my daughters, Emma and Susan would be disappointed to lose their society.

Please have George send a note if you are unable as I am anxious to know how you fare. I pray for the safe arrival of your latest child.

Ever yours,

Charlotte Fitzwilliam.

~~ooOOoo~~

My Dearest Sister,

You know I have been disappointed in childbirth many times before. I did not wish to excite my family until I could be the bearer of good tidings. This time, from the moment I knew I was with child, it has been different. Honestly, I can only attribute it to having a household full of children, and the immense pleasure that brings to my heart and mind. You know, from my earliest days, I wished for a house filled with the love and laughter of many little Darcy's, be they girls or boys. I now have my wish. However it has left me very little time to think on my condition these last months. Before I knew it, it was time to take to my bed. The Midwife worried more than I. Master Alexander George Darcy entered this world two days ago without ceremony and in perfect ease. His arrival has been the least troublesome of my children, and he is proving to be an ideal babe.

I am fit and well. Today I managed to play outside with the girls, fortunate as we still have trouble keeping Elizabeth inside on a sunny day. So the family will keep our plans of travelling to London for June. I hope to stay at least a few days with you at Meadowbrook, if we are invited. It would be an ideal place to break our travels on the long journey south. No matter how well behaved, Alexander will be very young to be in strange surroundings and we must take his care into consideration. I fear the journey will take very long. My husband insists we will not travel more than thirty miles each day, therefore it will take more than a week to reach Rosings Park, most likely many more if we stop for several days along the way. In the meantime, you may come with Emma and Susan to Pemberley as soon as you are able to arrange it. I will send this express so you may start your packing. Perhaps you will stay until we travel to Meadowbrook Manor, if you can spare the time and your husband will release you.

I await your arrival to discuss the situation with George Wickham in more detail. It seems Carre's Grammar School is recommending his removal for unbecoming behaviour after only a few months at that establishment. I believe this will force my husband's hand. I cannot say I am sorry.

Forever yours,

Anne Darcy.

~~ooOOoo~~

"Oh, Anne," Charlotte Fitzwilliam greeted her sister-in-law who stood awaiting her arrival on the gravel forecourt. Barely out of the carriage and the women embraced enthusiastically. Keeping her hands on Anne's forearms, she truly looked at the new mother. "I cannot believe Alexander arrived only six days ago. You look exceedingly well."

"After Georgiana," Anne smiled brightly, "I thought I would be abed for a month and eating only beef. Perhaps practice makes perfect."

"Five children," Charlotte teased, "is that not enough?"

"I am truly blessed," Anne moved away to eagerly greet the two young girls alighting the carriage behind their mother. "My, how you have grown Emma and that colour becomes you Susan. Elizabeth and Jane have been up since daybreak asking for you. They are currently in the nursery and doing everything within their power to avoid lessons."

The girls, eight and twelve respectively, did not wait. They had visited with their cousins many times before and knew they would be in the school room. However Mrs Forrester, their governess, always excused them from lessons so they might play together. It would not be long before all the girls were in the garden, and Fitzwilliam managed to convince his master to let him join them.

"Do you wish time to refresh," Anne enquired of her sister-in-law as they stood and watched the young ladies hurry up the steps as quickly as propriety allowed, "or shall we take tea?"

"I must confess," Charlotte blushed slightly, "I am eager to hear of Wicked Wickham and what has become of him. Would it displease you if I were to take tea in my travelling clothes, for I cannot wait another minute."

"Not at all," a chuckle escaped Lady Anne's control.

"Good, it is settled. Come, tell me all," Charlotte returned, taking her sister-in-law's arm and leading the way inside the house.

"It will be best if I order tea and we dismiss the servants," Anne whispered on the way to the winter parlour. After several minutes of biennial banter, the ladies each sat on a sofa overlooking the prospect towards Pemberley's famous lake, with fine china cups in hand.

"I am told," Charlotte allowed an eyebrow to rise once the maid exited the room and they were truly alone, "my husband has secured a midshipman's appointment in the navy for Young George when in Manchester recently."

"Indeed," Anne smiled, "a fortuitous occurrence, the First Sea Lord being in that city on business, and your husband able to procure an introduction and the Admiral's good opinion."

"I believe so. Still, I would have thought George Wickham too old for a naval commission," Lady Fitzwilliam sighed. "Not that I see any other choice for the boy."

"He is not yet fifteen. I do not know the particulars, but the Admiral managed to find a Captain willing to take him on," Anne added with a sigh.

"How much did your husband have to lay down for the wretched boy," anger laced Charlotte's words.

"I do not know if he had to sweeten the deal and honestly, sister, I do not care but he is to be out of our lives and that is what matters most. However, that is not all. Let me tell you what I alluded to in my most recent letter." Seeing the countess's agreement, Anne continued in a voice dripping with barely controlled irritation. "Wickham has been forced to leave his studies at Carre's. The Head Master sent an express wishing for him to be removed forth-with. However my husband convinced the man to keep him until next week, when Wickham is to travel to Dover. There he will join his ship destined for the West Indies," Anne informed her sister-in-law. "It is believed they will not return to England for many months, perhaps even a year. I am only sorry the boy will not stay away longer! Naught good can come from a continued association."

"You hinted at some lack of decorum in your last letter, Anne," Charlotte frowned. "Pray tell me all there is to know!"

"Let us just say," Anne's expression mirrored that of Lady Fitzwilliam's, "while his manners are engaging, his behaviour towards the fairer sex is not. There will be no one's reputation he can sully, or virtue he can steal, aboard a ship full of men."

Shuddering, Charlotte turned the conversation to Master Alexander. When the girls descended on the room with a harried Governess and nursery maid behind them, Anne dismissed the servants. Calling for a fresh pot of tea, they a sat down to the delight of all their children, especially when promised an hour in the garden with the Ladies.

"If you will excuse me," Anne blushed furiously an hour later. At almost five and forty, she'd chosen to feed her latest babe for as long as possible. It would not be long before she required the services of a wet nurse, for even now her supply was not enough for young Alexander. Indeed the woman chosen for the role entered with a swaddled bundle just as Lady Anne's breasts began to tingle with the fullness of milk. "I will attend Alexander. Perhaps you would like to take the opportunity to refresh, sister. The girls will be safe in the walled garden with the maids for the time being. I shall return to the family parlour with my sons and husband so we may all visit together before retiring until the dinner hour."


End file.
